


Rough Around the Edges

by lunaseemoony



Category: Broadchurch, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 23:14:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3587643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaseemoony/pseuds/lunaseemoony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose finds herself captivated by a photo of a much younger and happier Hardy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rough Around the Edges

It just wasn’t normal (or very tolerable), her periodic giggles and squealing at all of the mundane minutia that she found around his flat. Alec was convinced that Rose was indeed anything but normal when he found that she saw right through all of his excuses and dismissals (when he bothered to provide them). Then again, he hadn’t tried very hard to convince her that his collection of cartoon character mugs were his daughter’s.

He was  _supposed_  to be working on a case while she watched a show on his disused television. Evidently rooting through his belongings was far more entertaining. Though she was foraging through his things as though she was looking for case evidence, he knew better than to assume she’d only just begun picking apart her mental image of the boring detective (if she’d ever had one). This was merely the continuation of her investigation. Meanwhile, his wasn’t moving at all, and his attempts at ignoring her excited little giggles, gasps and hums were becoming increasingly unsuccessful by the minute.

“Oh, now  _he’s_ cute,” Rose cooed as she picked up one of his dusty picture frames. Only this time he didn’t hear the little clattering sound attributed to immediately setting it back down. She held it and admired it. “Wait,” Rose gasped. “This is you! Oh my gosh, this is  _you_!”

Alec grumbled a sigh as he pulled his head away from his case file. He wasn’t about to get up and take the photo from her, because that would be an admission that she’d gotten to him. “Would you put that down?”

“Why? I like him, this you,” She replied with a sobered voice.

He pulled his glasses off so that he could pinch his nose and narrow his eyes at the offending photo that Rose was massaging with her thumbs. “What’s so different?”

Rose hummed and stared at the picture with a scrutiny that wrinkled her nose a little. “Well, for starters he’s got an actual haircut. And then,” she sighed and smiled at the man in the photo, “he’s clean shaven. I mean, look at this face. You’re hiding it behind that wild bush of yours. And I didn’t know you owned any t-shirts, let alone clothes that aren’t wrinkled. When was this taken?”

Now she really was picking him apart. Of course Rose would like the younger man in the photo. He was barely into his thirties, was happily married, and had just become a father. He was on cloud nine. His career at the time wasn’t anything to write home about. But if he’d known what was to come, he never would have complained. His life was comparably perfect, and apparently he was also more attractive, not that Alec was bothered by this.

“Long time ago.” Alec spoke to the table as he pushed his glasses back onto his nose. 

“Oh.”

He didn’t need to spell it out for her to work out what he meant. The wave of a grin that had spread across her face receded and was replaced with a frown and doe eyes. Rose rested the photo face down on the blanket of dust coating its shelf. As alluring as he was, that Alec was not Rose’s. She had the scruffy grumbling one at the table whose shoulders she then moved to massage.

“Remind me why you’re here again?” He bit. 

She ignored his raised hackles and continued rolling her palms along his shoulders in the same manner she might a lump of tough clay. “I like this too,” She whispered as she pressed her chest to his back and nuzzled the carpet of scruff on his jaw. “I like it a lot, actually.”

He chuffed at her. But he also shifted downward in his seat.

“It’s softer than most,” Rose whispered again. “Not that you’d really notice unless you got real close and touched it.” She stopped rubbing his shoulders to lazily drape her arms over them and planted a kiss on his fuzzy cheek.

He might have relaxed his shoulders a little and let loose a deep sigh. He couldn’t be certain.

“You don’t mean that.” He murmured, and continued pouring over the papers scattered all over the manila folder on the table. 

“I do, though. ‘s gorgeous.” She cooed while fidgeting with his tie, untying it in the process.

He shifted again, this time spreading his long legs under the glass table. “You’re distracting me.”

“You know, the other night, when you went -”

“I really do have to-” 

“ … I could still taste it on your beard a while later.” 

“-get some work done.”

Alec could feel the Cheshire cat grin spreading across her face again, dimpling her cheeks against his. He shifted in his seat again and growled. When Rose caught wind of the source of his frustration (in addition to herself), she kissed his cheek again before he finally craned his neck up to look at her properly.

“You’re awfully persistent,” He told her, and made a show of furrowing his brow at her a little. 

Again, Rose ignored it. “Yeah, and you’re a little rough around the edges.” She grabbed hold of his chin to pull it towards her for a proper kiss that tickled her lips. She brushed them across his chin for yet another before grinning at him. “Come on then, you’ve been at this for hours. There’s more than one definition for work, Hardy.” She cast a longing gaze down the hall towards his bedroom. “At least one kind I can actually help you with.”

Rose was already halfway down the hall when he stood up in defeat.

“Oh, and the chippy down the block will still be open for another couple hours.” She beamed up at him as he caught up with her at his bedroom door. 

“You know I don’t like chips.”

“Yeah, but  _I_  do.” 

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” 

A tongue tucked between her teeth told him that she was proud of this even before she spoke, and began to drag him into his own bedroom. “Yeah, you love it, though.”

As he shut the door behind him he noted that he almost never admitted to her being correct. But when he smiled at her only behind that closed door, he wondered if he really needed to.


End file.
